


Tripping the light fantastic

by Ephemera_pop (Alex_Draven), PatchworkDragon



Series: Tripping the Light Fantastic [2]
Category: Backstreet Boys, Popslash
Genre: Backstage, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-09-13
Updated: 2005-09-13
Packaged: 2018-10-16 20:38:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10579053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alex_Draven/pseuds/Ephemera_pop, https://archiveofourown.org/users/PatchworkDragon/pseuds/PatchworkDragon
Summary: "Hi," Howie replied as the grin finally escaped him. Every inch of the oh-so-proper distance between them crackled with electricity.The distance was closed when someone slammed into Howie from behind, knocking him into Lance and Lance against the wall.Somewhere over there Kevin was yelling at Nick and there were probably a hundred and one crew people and they really really ought to be more careful than this, but Lance just felt so good, pressed up against him like this, so it was only the most distant of considerations, and Lance's neck was right *there*.Howie's eyes were riveted to that spot where Lance's collar was pulled back from his collarbone, golden skin just asking to be tasted. His mouth was open, he knew it was a bad idea, but there was nothing he could do to stop himself.





	

**Author's Note:**

> by [](http://patchworkdragon.livejournal.com/profile)[**patchworkdragon**](http://patchworkdragon.livejournal.com/) and [](http://ephemera-pop.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://ephemera-pop.livejournal.com/)**ephemera_pop**  
>  Inspired by [this request](http://www.livejournal.com/community/fic_requests/102497.html) in [](http://fic-requests.livejournal.com/profile)[**fic_requests**](http://fic-requests.livejournal.com/) , and with thanks, as always, to [](http://nopseud.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://nopseud.livejournal.com/)**nopseud** Any remaining mistakes are almost certainly my fault.

"Good show, twinkle-toes." Brian laughed. Howie stuck out his tongue, but Brian was already around the corner in his usual high-speed dash back to the dressing room.

"You ok?" Kevin asked, stopping Howie with a concerned hand to his shoulder. Howie smiled up at Kevin, but that quickly turned to a scowl when he realized that Daddy Kevin was checking his pupils.

"I just tripped, ok? It happens to everyone. You don't get all mother hen when Nicky trips."

"We're just so shocked that you would trip. If it was Nicky, no one would say..." AJ's conclusion was lost as Nick tackled him to the floor. Kevin stepped over the struggling mass easily with his long legs, while Howie swerved around to avoid being pulled into the fray.

"I'm just a little tired," he said to Kevin as they reached the dressing room. "The light was in my eyes, I got distracted, my hand was sweaty, and the hat slipped right through my fingers..."

"Excuses, excuses," drawled an unexpected voice. Howie startled, and the shadows beyond the door revealed one Lance Bass. Who was smiling and reaching over to shake Kevin's hand with a casual "Good to see you again - great show, by the way."

Kevin sidestepped past them both, tossing his own hat into the costume crate, and Howie pulled Lance aside.

"Because you've never stumbled on stage yourself," Howie said, trying to contain the cheesy grin that teased at the corners of his mouth. "I thought you were stuck in LA this week?"

From the way his mouth was working, there was an equally cheesy grin hovering in Lance's immediate future.

"I got myself, well, unstuck?" Lance's fingers just brushed the back of Howie's hand. "Hi."

"Hi," Howie replied as the grin finally escaped him. Every inch of the oh-so-proper distance between them crackled with electricity.

The distance was closed when someone slammed into Howie from behind, knocking him into Lance and Lance against the wall.

Somewhere over there Kevin was yelling at Nick and there were probably a hundred and one crew people and they really really ought to be more careful than this, but Lance just felt so good, pressed up against him like this, so it was only the most distant of considerations, and Lance's neck was right *there*.

Howie's eyes were riveted to that spot where Lance's collar was pulled back from his collarbone, golden skin just asking to be tasted. His mouth was open, he knew it was a bad idea, but there was nothing he could do to stop himself. Not with all this wonderful warm hard-bodied man in his arms.

Even with his ears ringing he could hear Lance's sharp in-breath, feel the lift of his chest where they were pressed close, and then a hand closed on his shoulder. Sharp narrow fingers pressed with force against his collarbone, and Howie jumped a mile.

Unfortunately Lance's chin was only a fraction of that distance away, and the top of Howie's head connected firmly.

"Quit crowding the poor man," AJ growled in his ear, pulling Howie sharply back from Lance. "Someone's going to get hurt."

"Someone already has," Lance lisped, his hand against his mouth. Howie wanted to kiss it better.

When Lance moved his hand there was a smudge of blood, his lower lip already swelling. AJ murmured 'Shit', and all Howie's protective instincts kicked in. He pushed AJ away towards the catering stands, with the brief order 'Ice', and then, ignoring Lance's claim that he was fine, really, took him by the elbow.

"Bathroom's this way - come on."

Lance let himself be led, leaning into the contact almost as though Howie hadn't just head butted him. When the swing door swung to, shutting out the bustle of backstage, Lance leaned back against the sink, probing carefully with one finger around his lip, and smiling anyway.

"Klutz."

Not even Howie's guilt could filter out the affection in Lance’s voice.

"I'm so sorry," he started to say.

"What, did you do this on purpose?" Lance's sarcastic tone was somewhat marred by the fact he was still holding his lip away from his teeth. "Was it your little plot to get me alone?"

"Hardly!" Howie protested, and when Lance raised an amused eyebrow, he closed the gap, leaning in to whisper "I was definitely planning on you being able to use your mouth when we got together."

A loud rap on the door made him take a step back.

"Ice," AJ said as he entered the room, and Howie let himself be pushed to one side. He hated to see AJ fussing over his man, but if he touched Lance himself he might never be able to stop. It helped some that Lance was batting AJ away, insisting he could ice his own lip, but thank you.

"Seriously, man, I'm doing good - go and get changed before your stage manager kicks me out for putting y'all behind schedule, or something?"

Reluctantly, Howie let AJ pull him along, out of the bathroom. He looked back over his shoulder as the door shut, expecting to see Lance icing his lip.

Instead, Lance was watching him with an unmistakable intensity. The ice chip had left his lips glistening red, and Lance caught his eye and slipped one finger tip slightly into and out of his mouth.

Howie reached out just in time to stop the door from closing, and stepped back into the bathroom. As soon as he was in, he locked the door, ignoring AJ's voice from the other side.

Lance was smiling. Lance was smiling and reaching out with chilled fingers to pull Howie close. Howie went more than willingly.

There had been a reason he was trying to stay away, but he really didn't care right now. Howie leaned forward and brushed his lips gently over Lance's, just barely touching. His fingers brushed the soft skin in the hollow of Lance's jaw, feeling the small movement that turned into Lance deepening the kiss, hot and sweet and iron tinged, and he shivered.

His other hand trailed down Lance's arm, seeking to tangle their fingers but instead finding the cold wet of ice. Howie pulled the ice from Lance's lax grip and brought it up to the back of his neck, making Lance jump and gasp. The motion only pressed him closer against Howie, which, Howie took a moment to appreciate, was rather the point. Lance's head was arched back, which left that delectable neck wide open.

Howie leaned in to taste, just flicking his tongue over Lance's throat. Only years of self-discipline kept him from giving in to his impulse to bite and suck and mark.

The little moan that Lance made when he licked again wasn't helping, either.

Lance's hands closed on Howie's waist, dry heat and careful pressure, holding him close so that when Lance's hips rocked forward there was no doubt at all that he was in much the same state as Howie was.

"God, babe, please?"

Howie loved Lance like this, on the verge of losing control, when that carefully constructed coolness started to crack. He rubbed his fingers together to melt the last of the ice, then slipped his cold, wet fingers under Lance's tight shirt to tease at his nipple.

Oh yeah. Just like this. He scrabbled his fingers again, and Lance jerked, hissing, and the fingertips on his hips weren't gentle any more.

With his other hand, Howie traced down the fly of Lance's jeans, scraping his fingernail down the zipper.

Lance shivered deliciously, and his hands were on Howie's shoulders now, his neck, fingers cupping his head, and then Lance's mouth was hot against his, licking at Howie's lips in something both messier and less satisfying that a kiss.

Howie spread his legs a little, trapping Lance's legs between his own and pushing Lance even further against the wall. The position was cramped, awkward, and hot as hell. From the way Lance was moving against him, he agreed.

Howie managed finally to get his hand down Lance's pants, into the hot confusion of underwear and hair and soft silky skin. Lance's noises turned into a constant stream of sub-voce profanity.

Mostly the whole long-distance thing was crappy, but the pure fantasticness of finally getting to touch and taste and feel after all the waiting was a fucking huge plus.

He cupped his hand around Lance's dick, unable to really do much inside the pants but just needing to know that he could touch right the fuck now. Touch, and crane his neck at an awkward angle to suck and bite just below Lance's jawbone, and wrap his other hand around that muscled shoulder.

He needed more though, even though he knew it wasn't safe, not here, not now. but he couldn't wait. Howie fumbled one handed at the fly of Lance's jeans, getting the button open and the zipper down. His own cock was pressing against his jeans, and he pressed the heel of his hand hard against himself, determined not to lose it quite yet. He'd slide to his knees if that didn't mean giving up Lance's addictive mouth.

Some small rational voice in the back of his head was warning him that they would have to leave this room eventually and it would be best if it weren't blatantly obvious what they'd been doing. He pulled his own fly open roughly, pushing his pants and shorts down far enough to be reasonably safe. He could feel Lance doing the same.

And there they were, their cocks rubbing together and it was better than being on stage. Better than practically anything, and as Lance's fingers squeezed the tense muscles of his butt, Howie was distantly aware of his own voice rising in volume along with Lance's.

Howie had to get closer, somehow, had to get more. He tried to pull himself up higher, pushing down on Lance's shoulder and wrapping his legs around Lance's hips. But his pants defied his wishes, binding his knees together so he couldn't get his legs around Lance. If it hadn't been for Lance's arms holding him close he'd have fallen - again.

On the other hand, Lance's arms, pulling him close, and Lance chuckling in the sudden silence. Howie seized the moment to duck down and force his right leg free of the pants leg trapping it, and then he was caught up in a shuffling tango that ended up with the smooth laminate of the bathroom wall against his back and Lance's hands urging at his hips.  
The phrase "climb him like a tree' flashed through Howie's mind and it was so apt, Lance was as solid as an oak tree. Howie arched his back, pushing with his shoulders to get the leverage he needed to lift his legs and wrap them around Lance's waist, all the while trying to get his mouth on Lance's throat.

Lance lifted, and oh holy hell that was good, the sudden heat as their cocks lined up, and seconds later he was pinned to the wall with Lance devouring his mouth and, really, coherent thought was vastly over-rated. Howie wanted more, wanted to tilt his hips and let Lance inside him, but this was not the right place. The guys were right outside in the dressing room waiting, the crew and security and maybe a reporter or two all right outside that door. He kissed Lance desperately, trying to block out the sounds both of them were making. Lance pulled back, turning his head to the side, and Howie felt a flash of guilt as remembered the cut on Lance's lip.

It was hard enough to breathe already, with Lance pushing him hard up against the wall, nails scratching at his waist, hot breath groaning in his ear. With Lance snapping his hips like that, all slick friction and, oh god, good. Howie felt like a doll, a toy, lifted and held against the wall, and he needed to be doing, not just being done. He ducked his head and dragged his mouth along Lance's jaw down to where the tendons his neck stood out sharply.

The full-body shudder that received was the perfect reward, as Lance threw over any remaining shreds of control and pushed back, harder, faster. Everything else was fading, disappearing; no venue, no crew, no press, no band, just Howie and Lance. Nothing else was real except this clutching, gasping, biting, thrusting.

If he was silent when he came it was more because there was nothing left in him to scream with, when Lance had his head tipped back like that and was powering against him with his whole self. He was still lost in sensation when he felt Lance grip him tighter and gasp breathlessly.

The return of reality was thankfully gradual, their breathing slowing more or less in synch, the nagging awareness of stretched muscles coinciding with Lance shifting in a way which implied he was starting to notice that he was supporting all of Howie's weight, and the careful disentanglement was hushed and loving.

"Wow," Howie whispered. Somewhere in the back of his mind he was aware he was standing bare-assed against a restroom wall with his pants hanging on one ankle and one shoe gone, but he was way too happy to care.

"Mmmmm," agreed Lance, nuzzling at Howie's neck.

Gently Howie kissed the red bite mark on Lance's neck. "Sorry," he whispered.

Lance blinked, his fingers coming up to brush over the spot. "Ohh." The smile that lit up his face was just something else. "Really, not complaining. And, hey, no photo shoots for me!"

"That's a shame, I wish I had a camera right now," Howie said as he pulled back a little to look down and Lance. "The picture could go in the dictionary over the word 'ravished'."

"Not ravisher, then?" Lance smiled, squeezing Howie's hips for a moment, and making him squirm.

"I guess you could be both. You standing like that while I lay conquered at your feet, gazing up at you..."

"Sounds good to me - although maybe somewhere a little more glamorous ..."

Howie smiled. "I hear that. But the best I can offer you is a tour bus. Ever do it on a tour bus before?"

“Funnily enough...." Lance smiled back, leaning close to silence Howie's retort with another kiss. The motion was probably only tiny, but there was no way Howie could not notice the way Lance flinched as their lips touched.

"We can get you more ice on the bus," Howie said. "I'm sorry I'm so clumsy."

Lance's fingers were warm where they brushed over his chin. "Really, babe, I'm fine. I just forgot, you know?" He chucked and Howie felt it as much as heard it. "I guess you really did rock my body right."

Howie groaned. "And I guess we should make ourselves presentable and get out there so the mocking can begin."

Lance nodded, even though his fingers lingered as they started to sort themselves out. At least getting carried away in the bathrooms backstage meant there was water and actual towels to hand, and when Lance handed him a towel he'd run under the hot tap, Howie was appropriately grateful. He really kind of liked post-sex quiet-and-caring Lance.

"Wish we could just stay in here." Howie admitted as he untwisted his poor mangled pants.

"Your boys really ragging on you that much?" Lance asked, looking up from re-threading his belt.

"Wouldn't yours? We did just lock ourselves in the bathroom for sex. The last time Kristen showed up unexpectedly we all ragged on Kevin for weeks afterwards."

"Ok, point, but - I can worry, can't I?"

Howie stepped closer, lifting Lance's chin with one finger. "They love you, ok? The guys think you're the best boyfriend I've ever had, my mom thinks you’re cute, and my sister wants to steal you away from me."

Lance's small smile was utterly adorable, as was the way his fingers automatically found a home twisted in the fabric of Howie's t-shirt.

"That's actually really nice to hear, but I meant worried about how you're doing..."

"You mean with the guys? We're great now, better than we've been for years." He couldn't resist kissing Lance's forehead. "And if you mean with you, I've never been happier. Never been so in love."

Lance didn't say anything, but the way he pulled Howie close and tight pretty much said everything.

Howie held him close for a moment, then squeezed him extra tight before letting go. "We should go out and face the music. I know everyone was in a hurry to get on the road to beat the traffic."

"Having your crew decide I'm bad news and not allowed backstage would really, really suck."

Lance's fingers were light, tickling over the small of his back as Howie bent over to tie his shoe. When Howie looked up Lance was straightening his shirt in the mirror, fastening a couple of extra buttons to keep the blossoming hickie more-or-less out of sight.

"I'll bet that's the first time you've fastened that top button since you got that shirt," Howie remarked as he tucked in his own shirt.

Lance rolled his eyes. "They're not shirt-and-tie shirts and you know it. Plus I don't remember you complaining!"

Howie couldn't resist stepping close behind to wrap his arms round Lance's waist, peering over his shoulder to talk to his reflection.

"I never said anything about complaining." he noted, pecking Lance on the cheek before letting go.

If he didn't keep things light they really would be stuck in the bathroom for ever. He stepped back from Lance, squaring his shoulders and letting the distance between them become something solid, a reminder not to stand too close in front of others. This was the part of his life that sucked, Howie thought as he paused with his hand on the doorknob.

"Ready?" he asked without looking back.

"Yup - all set."

Howie opened the door and stepped out. The dressing room was empty. Oh, the makeup cases were still there, but they were closed up and ready to be loaded as was the wardrobe case.

One lone white towel still hung draped on a chair, and automatically Howie picked it up and stowed it in a laundry sack.

"They must be on the buses already. Shit, I did not need Kevin to have one more thing to lecture me about, not after that thing on stage tonight."

"Me telling you that it really wasn't that big a deal isn't going to achieve anything, is it?"

Lance ducked past him, and stuck his head into the corridor outside. He said something to someone, but Howie couldn't make it out. Trying to see past him to tell who it was and how much trouble they were in, he stepped closer to Lance, just as Lance stepped back.

He twisted at the last moment, and ended up sitting down on the flight case nearest the door with a thump.

"Two minutes" Lance called to whoever it was, and when he turned back there was just the hint of a smirk about his mouth. "It really is not your day, is it?"

There were some pretty good moments," Howie said, looking pointedly at the part of Lance currently at eye level. "But I do seem to be much clumsier than usual today. I would blame distraction, but it started before I know you were even in the same state."  
"Hmmmm. You're probably just tired. I think you need to spend the night somewhere nice and comfortable and safe, where you can't hurt yourself, and see if it's better in the morning."  
  
"Too bad I'm stuck on a bus, huh?" He suddenly realized he hadn't asked. "You will come with me tonight, won't you?"

Lance held out both hands to help Howie back up on his feet.

"I was planning on spending the night, yeah. Although - maybe somewhere a little nicer than a bus."

Howie remained in Lance's personal space a little longer than he should. "Hey, I don't know what kind of buses you're used to, but Backstreet buses are pretty damn nice. Besides, I have to get a few hundred miles before tomorrow night."

“I'm sure they're utterly fantastic buses, but I had this plan for seducing you, and seeing as I went to all that trouble to get it cleared with your tour crew ..."

"You have a plan to seduce me?" Howie resisted the impulse to giggle and blush like a schoolgirl. "Gonna tell me what it is?"

"Well," Lance stroked the back of his fingers gently over Howie's inner wrist. "Mitch is waiting outside, and he's got a car out back for us - nothing too flash, but the windows are blacked out, and we won't get mobbed because the buses have already left. Ohh, and one of your assistants made you up an overnight bag, which is already in the car. And then, once I've got you all to myself, I was thinking, you know, hotel room, dinner, maybe a little wine, jacuzzi, star-lit roof garden, oh, and a jet all chartered for tomorrow to get you to the show on time. You think I might be in with a chance?"

Overwhelmed, Howie pulled Lance's hand up and kissed it gently. "I think you have much more than a chance, baby. You are unbelievable."

"It's like the adverts say - you're worth it." Lance's finger tips just brushed the side of Howie's face before he jerked his head towards the door. "So - you wanna go get seduced?"  
  
"Best offer I've had all day," Howie agreed. "Take me away from all this."  
  
Lance smiled so wide it made him glow, and then tugged Howie close, Lance's arm heavy across his shoulders.

"Come on then, twinkle toes. The night's just beginning."

*****


End file.
